The entire ballroom was silent.
“Good evening,” Mara greeted. Her voice was full of power. “Many of you, I don’t know. Because often, people like me… are hidden. They are ashamed. They are called ‘burdens’.”
Mara looked directly at Leo’s place.
“There was an employee here who told me just now… that I was not suitable for this party because I couldn’t stand. That his image would be ruined if he had a cripple with him.”
The people murmured. “Who is that? That’s the worst!”
“Mr. Leo Velasco,” Mara said by name. “Please come up on stage.”
Leo’s knees shook. All eyes were on him. He had no choice. He climbed onto the stage, sweating profusely.
As he approached, he tried to smile.
“H-hon! You’re here! Is this a surprise? I love you!” Leo was about to hug Mara and kiss her to cheer her up.
PAAAAAAK!
A strong slap landed on Leo’s face. It echoed throughout the ballroom.
“Don’t touch me,” Mara said coldly.
“Mara…” Leo held her cheek.
“Leo,” Mara spoke into the mic. “The position you were hoping for tonight? The VP position? I gave it to someone else.”
“B-but Hon… I’m the one who worked hard for the company…”
“Worked hard?” Mara laughed. “Who paid for your MBA tuition? Me. Who gave you the recommendation letter to get in here? Me. Who bought the suit you’re wearing now? Me! All of that came from your ‘crippled’ wife’s money!”
Leo knelt down. Not out of respect, but out of fear of losing everything.
“Mara, sorry! Forgive me! I was just carried away by my ambition! I love you! Only you!”
Leo cried at the foot of Mara’s wheelchair in front of 500 guests. The man who had been boasting earlier, now looked like a begging dog.
“Stand up there,” Mara ordered. “A man without integrity is not good for me.”
Mara turned to the audience.
“As the Chairman of Apex Global, I am announcing the immediate termination of Mr. Leo Velasco due to ethical misconduct and moral turpitude.”
“YOU’RE FIRED, LEO.”
Continued on next page
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Tomato, beef, macaroni soup
The next part changes everything.
13 signs that someone around you may have a negative influence
“I married a woman thirty years older than me—despite my family’s strong objections. But on our wedding night, I uncovered a secret that changed everything. My name is Arjun Mehra. I’m twenty years old, about 180 cm tall, and currently in my second year at one of New Delhi’s top universities. Until recently, my life was simple—classes, exams, and future plans. That all changed the day I met Kavita Rao. She was sixty—graceful, composed, and impossible to ignore. Once the owner of a successful chain of luxury restaurants in Mumbai, she had stepped away from business and lived a quiet, private life. We met at a charity event in Gurugram. While others tried to stand out with loud conversations and laughter, Kavita remained calm and reserved. Her silver hair reflected the light, and her presence alone drew attention without effort. A few days later, she invited me to her mansion in South Delhi for tea. What I expected to be a short, polite visit turned into hours of meaningful conversation. She spoke openly about her life—early success, a marriage that ended without conflict, and a loneliness that lingered despite her achievements. She had everything—wealth, status, respect—except someone to truly share it with. Somewhere in those conversations, I realized I cared deeply for her. Not because of what she owned, but because she understood life in a way most people my age didn’t. Three months later, during a rainy evening, I told her I wanted to spend my life with her—no matter the age difference. The backlash was immediate. My family accused me of being after her money. My father called it disgraceful. My mother cried for days. Friends whispered behind my back. Eventually, I chose to walk away from all of them. We got married at her villa, with only a few of her close business associates present. I was the youngest person in the room—and I could feel every judgmental glance. That night, alone together as husband and wife, the atmosphere felt heavy and quiet. Kavita sat beside me and handed me a thick folder. Inside were documents—properties in Mumbai, ownership papers, and keys to a luxury car. I was overwhelmed. “I don’t want any of this,” I told her. “That’s not why I married you.” She studied me carefully before speaking, her tone calm but firm. “Arjun, you need to understand something,” she said. “Loneliness isn’t the only reason I chose you. I need someone to carry on what I’ve built.” Her words unsettled me. She explained that she had no children, and her wealth—worth hundreds of crores—would otherwise fall into the hands of distant relatives waiting for their chance. “I want it to go to you,” she said quietly. “But there’s one condition.” The room suddenly felt smaller. My voice tightened as I asked, “What condition?” She held my gaze steadily… and began to explain.
